Remnant Myths
by sagitarius
Summary: Gold shimmers as it lights the path for those who seek build a throne. The blue skies look below upon the earth, wherein all who have walked upon it are equal in their eyes. Tarnished silver coats itself with strength, a shield for all those in need. Ambitions hid in a platinum heart, filled with carefree greed. Rewrite of GEAS.


After consideration, I've come to the conclusion that I once again fell into that dangerous pit fall that many authors seem to fall into and ended up starting a story with little actual planning as to how I should start it. That in itself has already damaged whatever repute I have here.

I decided to try and focus more on the action and less on the plot for my prologues, which in animation can work. Sadly, in writing, it's a horrible idea. For those writers out there, avoid the mistake I made; it is only better for you if you do.

This isn't to say that you should avoid action scenes entirely, but make them plot relevant at least, as I've decided to do here. Rather than make senseless fights, I've changed the prologues to something that will show some bits of history about my characters. Hopefully, this will leave a better impact on you, my readers.

**Prologue 1: The Golden King**

Two people stood across from each other in a large ballroom. Excited and expectant whispers reached both their ears from the gathered people gathered near the walls, the workings of machines joining it soon as the middle of it all was raised higher. Lights from on high shined down on the platform, keeping their spectators completely in the shadows.

All in all, the atmosphere was very much like the concerts she was so familiar with. More so than any other fight in fact, seeing as this was essentially a performance more than anything else. She was faced with a difficult quandary concerning the outcome and there was quite a lot at stake, but it was still, at its very core, a performance.

Blue eyes scan the faces shrouded in the shadows cast by the light. She knew all these people to a certain capacity, as she was expected to know them to some extent. Others however she knew much better, if mostly from their widely known repute.

To her right, she could make out the face of her father, stern and moody as ever. His face all but told her not to fail, lest there be consequences. To her left, she saw the unmistakable silver head of hair that could only belong to her closest friend. A supportive glance was returned to her, telling her to do what she believed was best.

Behind the other person on the raised dais stood someone who she knew was only a year or so older than her, but would completely dwarf her in height. His proximity to the stage allowed her to see his head and face in full. The secondary set of lupine ears atop his head gave away his identity as a faunus. And as if those two qualities didn't already serve to make him stick out, the simplicity of his clothes compared to the undoubtedly immaculate garments that everyone else in the vicinity wore would certainly serve to mark him as different.

While she had nothing against the faunus as a whole, the white haired girl still found herself questioning his presence in gathering such as this. For that matter, it was a wonder he himself seemed completely fine. Most times, he was simply ignored, and when others interacted with him, it was mostly with thinly veiled disgust, fear, or both.

Further back was a middle aged woman with blonde hair. Red eyes met her gaze the moment they wandered towards the older lady. It was obvious even from this distance that the aged matron was judging her every actions, both now, during the fight to come, and likely even afterwards.

Therein lay her predicament. Should she meet the woman's expectations, not only would her father be happy and proud, she would also be able to pursue her desired route of education. This, however, came at the cost of having another liberty taken from her. On the other hand, should she fail, her father would be displeased and she would be forced to give up her goals, but would let her make her own choice on the matter later in life, even if it was limited somewhat.

Regardless of the result, she would be forced forego one choice for another.

For most, or rather, for those like her who valued their freedom, whichever choice satisfied their parents would probably be the path they'd choose. In truth though, what did and didn't please her father had mattered less and less to her over the years. Certainly, if there was nothing on the line, she would do things according to her father's liking, but that wasn't the case here.

Her eyes drifted back to her opponent and the final piece of her dilemma.

She knew no one who expressed greater selfishness, arrogance and apathy than Gilbert Aurum. He stood ready with his arms crossed over his chest, adorned in gold coloured armour. His confident stance was supplemented by the equally self-assured smirk on his face. Behind him floated six metallic objects resembling gigantic arrowheads the same colour as his gauntlets, each one easily the size of her hand.

Though she'd never seen Gilbert fight with her own eyes, the information gathered for her was enough to ascertain many things. He was stronger while she was faster. He could overwhelm his opponents with a sustained onslaught, so could she with her versatility. His awareness and reaction time were superior hers, but her mobility and agility greater than his.

In many ways, they were complete opposites in combat, but Gilbert had the advantage of starting his training a year earlier than her. In the long run, a year's difference in training may not have been much, but as things stood now, that gap was big. She'd only began working with the higher functions of her weapon, as well as the advanced uses of her aura. More time to work with either factor could be the ultimate deciding factor in this fight.

This, of course, only brought to mind the fact that she wasn't all that certain she wanted to put on a good show.

The white haired girl repressed the urge to sigh at that thought, turning it into a calming breath instead.

Though she had second thoughts, she knew what her actual answer was going to be. Gilbert Aurum annoyed her to no end; true, that _would_ be a big problem later on. In spite of that, she'd put too much effort into her chosen path in life to just give up the opportunity follow it unopposed for something so trivial. Whatever consternation she would face from passing the matron's test, she would deal with later.

For now, it was time to fight. The audience had been kept waiting long enough.

Her left hand drew her weapon from the same side of her hip, holding it at the ready. Feet shoulder length apart, dominant foot forward, the other to the side; shoulders back, head up, with her body angled to give as little room to attack as possible. Getting her breath under control, she waited for the right time to attack, Myrtenaster's dust chamber revolving at her command.

When the signal to start was given, Weiss took the initiative, lunging fast Gilbert to land the first hit before he could mount a counteroffensive. Not fast enough, sadly. The distance she had to cover gave him enough time to grab a sword launched from one of his portals and bat her strike away with it. Its partner was ejected out a moment later, aimed pommel first at her stomach.

She backed away quickly, but had to block the upward slash that followed when Gilbert caught the second sword. In less than a second, the blade of the first had shortened to two thirds its original length. Gilbert stepped forward from his stationary position, the sound of gunfire heralding a much faster swipe.

Weiss rolled to the right, a hair's breadth away from being hit. She rolled backwards again before he could shoot her with the other sword. She wasn't about to just let herself be pushed into the defensive though. This was where the Schnee heiress' speed and agility came into play.

The white haired fifteen year old wasted no time and restarted her attack as soon as her feet were safely beneath her. She charged quickly, driving his left blade to the side and his right upwards before slashing at his now opened guard. It would've worked too had Gilbert not moved to put his pauldron in the way.

With her rapier immobile without retreating and her body too close to effectively use his swords, Gilbert chose to try and drive a knee to his stomach instead. It didn't work, but the manoeuvre had managed to provide the necessary distance for them to make better use of their chosen weapons.

Gilbert took the offensive again, his blades arching in patterns that kept her from countering. Weiss was faster, yes, but the blonde had twice as many weapons. For all the difficulty it took to properly use two swords at once, Gilbert had definitely managed to reap the benefits. All of Weiss's attacks were met with a stalwart defence on Gilbert's part. Worse yet, she wasn't even driving him back.

If the stalemate continued, the whole fight would boil down to a battle of attrition. The edge of Weiss's mouth twitched further downward, her eyes furrowing. She could either fall back and renew her attack using Myrtenaster's other settings, or keep on the offensive and grow tired. Judging from Gilbert's expression, he knew it every bit as much as she did and was waiting for just that.

The older teenager had more stamina than her, she was certain. Coming under fire was a huge threat, but at least a temporary retreat would give her some chance of winning.

Continuing her combo with four more swings, Weiss finally saw her chance and jumped back, putting as much distance between them as she could. With her mind free of needing to concentrate on the next attack, she spun Myrtenaster's chamber, channelling her aura into the rapier.

At the same time, the lines on Gilbert's armour lit up. She noted their green colour quickly; her mind trying to match them with what she knew would come: Shotguns, two slugs and two buckshots.

The white haired girl crouched as a blue glyph sprang to life in front of her, shielding her from the attack. They fired all at once, the reload time giving her just enough time to rush at him. Immediately, the glyph in front of her became nothing while another appeared beneath her feet.

Weiss charged, faster than ever with a pirouette slash, Myrtenaster's engravings growing darker. Gilbert blocked again, but this time she managed to make him stager. She stopped behind him for a moment, ready to attack again. That plan was put to a halt by a rain of pellets, forcing her to dodge.

Gilbert had retaken the offensive before she could regain her footing. Myrtenaster was shrouded in red to receive the first swing, pushing the blade back. In response the blonde used the motion to put some more momentum behind his second slash. Eyes going wide, she tried desperately to dodge with partial success. It was no solid hit, but without her aura to protect her, there would still have been quite a gash on her hip.

With her stance unsteady, she was unable to get away from the shot that followed. Dust pellets crashed into her knocking her back and nearly off her feet before disappearing. Weiss flinched at the stinging sensation, but managed to keep her focus on Gilbert enough to see his follow up and give the appropriate response.

With little time to safely use her glyphs, the white haired girl crossed her right arm on Myrtenaster's ricasso, bracing it to meet Gilbert's twin blades. She was thrown further back, tucking into a roll to better absorb the force, Weiss landed in a crouch, then rolled again to the side to avoid a pair slugs fired at her.

She grit her teeth in annoyance, even as an idea formed in her head. Gilbert's greatest asset was his ability to essentially control four different guns all at once, not counting the weapons in his hands. There was no way Weiss could conceivably negate his portals, but keeping him from aiming them was certainly possible.

Leaping away from another hail of pellets, Weiss stood and spun her rapier in front of her, forming six, tiny, light blue glyphs. They hovered in place a fraction of a second before wisps of energy flew out of them, chasing after the satellites Gilbert. By sheer luck, it looked like he thought they were aimed at him and performed a jumping roll in the gap between them to evade. Never before had she appreciated the sound of her capture glyphs hitting their mark.

Gilbert realized what had happened far too late, the portals that had kept open now deactivating as he got too far out of their range. The blonde's brief moment of surprise was all she needed to attain victory.

A white glyph appeared beneath her feet for one moment, the next she was between Gilbert and his disabled equipment. His further astonishment combined with poor positioning and Myrtenaster's augmented state kept him from mounting a proper defence. Finally, Weiss was able to push him back with her swordplay.

In a flurry of cuts, thrusts and the occasional parry, Weiss began to whittle down his guard. The more serious look on Gilbert's face only served to put a triumphant smirk on Weiss's lips. Before long, she managed to disarm his left hand. His right sword followed afterwards, but gave him the opportunity to try hitting her with a desperate kick; key word being 'try'. Though it bought him some space, Gilbert wasn't in the proper position to regain any of his weapons. Under classic tourney rules, that was enough for her to win.

...

So why haven't they been signalled to stop yet? She chanced a look around the arena again, always making sure to keep Gilbert in her peripherals. Most of them shared her thoughts on the matter; she was clearly the winner. A few of the faces still looked like they expected something more. In fact, all the faces she noted as belonging to someone with some form of personal connection to the fight at hand all looked like they expected more.

_"What, do they expect me to bring his aura to the red?"_ she asked herself curiously. Well, it's not like it really mattered. Gilbert wouldn't be able to do much anymore after all. Positioning herself, she lunged straight at her opponent.

"No! Don't!"

The warning, shouted in a familiar voice she knew very well, did not come in time. Gilbert had met her thrust whole-heartedly, running towards her as she did to him. At first, Weiss feared that he was ready to commit suicide. Then the golden glow of one of his portals opening caught her sight. It was right where she was going to hit too.

The implication of those final thoughts didn't hit home until Myrtenaster was already hilt deep through the distortion of space. Gilbert was quick to grab her sword arm, locking it and her weapon in place while his other hand grasped around her throat.

The smirk on Gilbert's features returned with a vengeance. "That was a good move Snowflake," he complimented her, somehow making it sound sincere and mocking all at once. The nickname only served to annoy her further. "I honestly didn't expect anyone to try and do what you did. No one's ever thought of immobilizing my Keys before." Here, his grin became completely mocking. "You know, it probably would have worked, if you didn't always stab in the same place."

Weiss's eyes widened at that. She tried to recall everything about the fight, and to her dismay, what Gilbert said was right. Her slashes targeted everywhere favourable, but every thrust she made was always aimed above the heart. The blonde was all too happy to take advantage of it.

Weiss grumbled. In all likelihood, the loose grip around her neck could turn tight as a vice within seconds. She'd been careless. She was loath to do it, but ultimately, Weiss was forced to surrender.

Hopefully, her performance was at least good enough to impress.

-X-

Well, hopefully this is better received than the original GEAS story's opening. If you liked it, don't hesitate to say so.


End file.
